


Midnight Surprises, and Other Assorted Birthday Things Brought to You by Cas, Sam and Dean

by LiberAmans214



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Castiel & Sam Winchester Friendship, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel and Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester are Jack Kline's Parents, Deal With It, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Gen, Jack Kline Feels, Jack Kline Gets a Hug, Jack Kline Loves Nougat, Jack Kline is a Winchester, Jack Kline's Birthday, M/M, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester is Jack Kline's Parent, Sam Winchester is So Done, Team Free Will 2.0 (Supernatural), jack's birthday, too - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23266432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiberAmans214/pseuds/LiberAmans214
Summary: “Jack’s turning three.” Sam proclaims, hands folded in front of him. Dean and Cas occupy the stools across the table.“I’ve heard he calls himself twenty two out at the store.” Dean says, though it isn’t something that needs to be said at all. “Had a nice freaky moment when he said two, before.” Cas smiles.“Well, he is two years and 361 days old.” Sam responds with a shrug. “And we need to plan his birthday, Dean. It’s next Monday.”“And who’s to say we haven’t planned it already?” Dean smirks.“Well, have you?” Sam bitchfaces, knowing his brother all too well.“No…?”“No.” Cas confirms.“Then it’s time to stop making jokes and brainstorm.” Sam declares, putting an old yellow legal pad on the table with all the seriousness of a bunch of dads and uncles secretly planning a three-year-old’s party. “You have the best handwriting, dude.” He adds, handing a pen to Cas, who accepts it graciously and prints ’Jack’s Third Birthday’ on the top.Dean leans in and squeezes in ’Bash’ at the end of the title, which Sam promptly strikes through once he’s back in possession of the pad.*
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 7
Kudos: 229





	Midnight Surprises, and Other Assorted Birthday Things Brought to You by Cas, Sam and Dean

**Author's Note:**

> for my dear friend, j! thank you for the title, rhea.

“Psst.” Sam hisses, voice low in fear of being heard, as he plasters himself to Dean’s door to get his whispers across. “Dean.”

There’s a few sleepy sounds from inside the room, followed by something being flung a5 the door. As Sam backs off, and fixes the door with an earnest glare, Dean grunts from within. “Go away, Sammy!”

“It’s Sam.” Sam snaps, in a ridiculous yell of a whisper. “And get out here, or I’m coming in.”

“Oh, son of a bitch -” Sam hears, in a garbled voice which seems to come closer as he speaks. There’s muted footfalls and then the lock clicks.

Only Dean’s head shows up, when the door opens a midge.

“What?”

“We need to talk.” Sam rolls his eyes, almost failing to hold in the urge to yank the door open now - since the way Dean’s clinging to it, he’d definitely fall. “In the kitchen, okay? You get there, I’ll go get Cas.”

His brother’s eyebrows go up. “Cas -”

But before he can finish his sentence, Sam’s set off in the direction of Cas’s room - not very far from Dean’s, and then he’s repeating the routine outside his door. He knocks, waits, and then calls out his name. “Cas? Hey, it’s Sam -”

“Yes, I can see you.” Comes the angel’s voice formally from his left - and not inside the room. When Sam looks up in surprise, he’s looking at him too; dressed in the trenchcoat over his pajamas, even. His hair’s messy and collar askew. “Hello, Sam.”

“Wait, how are you _there_ -” Sam squints, looking at Dean who’s coming up behind Cas, now in his robe, sporting an embarrassed smile. He’s not completely awake yet, for sure, because he puts his arm around Cas’s middle when he reaches them.

“Heya, Sam.” He’s blushing.

“Oh.” It all falls in place with a metaphorical click. “Right.” It doesn’t bother him, of course. Hell, he’s just happy the two finally worked themselves out. But he’s going to be methodically happy about it later, with congratulatory hugs and mockery - becsuse right now there’s something more urgent to be discussed. “Well, uh. Kitchen, guys?”

And the three of them amble to the room farthest away from Jack’s bedroom which they can _justify_ being in, on socked feet.

*

“Jack’s turning three.” Sam proclaims, hands folded in front of him. Dean and Cas occupy the stools across the table.

“I’ve heard he calls himself twenty two out at the store.” Dean says, though it isn’t something that needs to be said at all. “Had a nice freaky moment when he said _two_ , before.” Cas smiles.

“Well, he _is_ two years and 361 days old.” Sam responds with a shrug. “And we need to plan his birthday, Dean. It’s next Monday.”

“And who’s to say we haven’t planned it already?” Dean smirks.

“Well, have you?” Sam bitchfaces, knowing his brother all too well.

“No…?”

“No.” Cas confirms.

“Then it’s time to stop making jokes and brainstorm.” Sam declares, putting an old yellow legal pad on the table with all the seriousness of a bunch of dads and uncles secretly planning a three-year-old’s party. “You have the best handwriting, dude.” He adds, handing a pen to Cas, who accepts it graciously and prints ’ **Jack’s Third Birthday** ’ on the top.

Dean leans in and squeezes in ’ **Bash** ’ at the end of the title, which Sam promptly strikes through once he’s back in possession of the pad.

*

“I could decorate the bunker.” Dean wonders out loud, after breakfast the next day when Jack’s left, and two voices hum thoughtfully in unison.

“I’m not against that.” Sam finally says, smiling. “But wouldn’t you need some kind of theme?”

“Uh, yeah.” Dean agrees. “Filling this big a space with balloons is dumb.”

“The theme could be bees.” Cas suggests.

“It’s your kid’s party, not yours. Think more Star Wars, buddy.” Dean reminds him, grinning. “But I promise, when we throw you a party for turning like, 69 billion, the theme will be bees.”

Cas shoots him an offended look. “I’m not that old.”

Sam purses his lips to stifle a laugh, and speaks in his brother’s direction instead. “Star Wars is a good idea. And I’m proud of you for being the bigger man and not saying Star Trek.”

“Hey!” Dean defends. “His taste in movies may suck ass, but it’s still his day.”

And just like that, a decision is made.

*

“What about food?” Cas asks, before dinner, when Jack’s not come to the table yet. Dean bats his eyes at Cas adoringly on hearing that, which makes Sam roll his eyes extra-hard.

“Birthday pie from Milton’s.” Dean announces. “Not up for debate, by the way.” He adds, squinting pointedly at Sam.

“I wasn’t going to debate you on something like that, I’m not an idiot.” Sam throws back.

“Isn’t the jury still out on that one?” Dean retorts, still smarting from Sam’s firm denial of Dean’s idea to get life-size stormtrooper figures shipped to the bunker. He knows it made sense, but Sam didn’t have to be a prissy bitch about it.

“Shuddup.” Sam tells him. He turns to Cas. “What other things do we know that he likes?”

“Nougat.” Cas answers, completely serious.

Sam makes a face.

“Angel cakes.” Dean supplements, and it’s Cas’s turn to roll his eyes.

“We’ve all heard that story.” He still hasn’t warmed up to them, especially to the idea of them being called so. “Also cereal, Sam. Jack likes cereal.”

“Sam’s not supposed to know.” Dean dramatically mouths to the angel, in an exaggerated whisper, and Sam interjects.

“What am I not supposed to know?”

“Nothin’.”

Dean beams at him, radiating innocence, and the longer he does it the harder Sam glares at him, annoyedly. Until finally, Cas cuts in, getting the words out barely before Jack enters.

“I’ll take care of the food.”

*

“All that’s left is the guests.” Sam scribbles the word on the page - weirdly enough, they haven’t been able to fill a single page yet. Sure, they’ve been making decisions, but apparently writing down plans isn’t their thing here either. “I guess I could take care of that.”

“So, who we calling?” Dean asks, curiously. “Friends from town or Jack’s family friends?”

“There’s going to be 3 candles on the cake.” Cas reminds the room, and a chorus of “Ahh’s goes up from the brothers.

“Jody, Donna and the girls.” Sam writes, making bullets, because he really wants to feel like they at least filled one page with all the planning that they know they did. “Eileen. Garth, if he can make it. Dean, someone you want to call?”

“Yeah, send out a witchy summon to Rowena.” Dean teases, or so Sam assumes - although, in fact, it’s an inside joke. And indeed, Cas smiles at him. 

“And Cas, anybody?” Sam turns to him, ignoring his brother.

“I don’t think any of us, me included, want angels at our party.” Cas states frankly. “Or, for that matter, Sergei.” 

Sam shrugs. 

“Fine. Tell me if either of you think of somebody, okay?” Sam tells them, before picking up his phone and the page that’s now been successfully filled - Sam had to increase his font size a little bit at the end, but it worked out - and sets off to make the calls.

*

“Of course it’s a surprise party!” Sam exclaims, looking exasperated. “Why else have we been doing all of the planning without Jack?”

“That’s different!” Dean protests, irritated as well. “But I didn’t think we were going to do the whole lights-out jumpscare thing either.”

“Well, think about it now.”

“Okay.” Dean crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Just did. Still don’t like it.”

“God, you can be so irritating.” Sam stands up, huffing like he’s in a comic, but Dean doesn’t point it out because he can’t be sure that Sam won’t throw him at a wall for it. “Eileen didn’t see my texts earlier, so I’m going to my room to video call her.” Sam looks at Cas. “Please get him over this, Cas.”

Cas sympathetically nods, and Sam marches out of the room. 

“Don’t you nod when he asks you to take his side.” Dean grumbles at Cas, who lets it slide. Because he’s understanding and awesome like that.

“I don’t really understand, Dean.” Cas begins. “What’s the issue?”

“Sam wants us to pretend that there’s no party until Jack finds himself smack dab in the middle of one.” Dean summarises. “But that just means we don’t get to wish him a happy birthday at midnight, the night before.”

Cas tilts his head. “We don’t?”

“No! We pretend there’s no party, and then jump up and show him that there is one, later in the evening.” Dean says, sullenly. “But you know what, Cas? I know these people we’re inviting are family, but still.” He sighs. “They’re just slightly less family than the four of us, right?”

“And you want it to just be us for his first birthday wish.”

“Yeah.” Dean leans ahead, and takes Cas’s hand in his. “And for the part where we give him gifts too.” Cas intertwines their fingers, and waits for him to go on. “I just - I know what that feels like. And it - it sucks that neither of you two do, but I want Jack to know it too. Just the family, piled - hell, huddled on his bed, with gifts and wishes and so much fucking love.” 

Dean looks down at their hands, unable to look Cas in the eyes.

“Dean.” Cas speaks kindly. “Just when did Sam say he doesn’t want that?”

Dean pauses abruptly.

“He didn’t.” Cas tells him. “And well, if he implied it, I know you can make him see it like you just showed me.” Dean blinks. “Why are you looking at me like that? I have an idea.”

Dean squeezes his hand in Cas’s. “Yeah?”

“At midnight, we celebrate Jack’s birthday in his room. On his bed.” Cas smiles, and Dean blushes, looking away again. “But let’s not tell him about the birthday party. That part can be a surprise, like Sam wants it to be.”

“I -” Dean swallows. “That’s perfect, Cas.”

He leans in, while Cas smiles.

“You’re perfect.” And he slowly tilts his head, so he can press his lips to Cas’s and kiss his breathtaking smile while it lingers, but just before the gap closes, there’s the sound of someone clearing their throat. 

If it were Sam, Dean mentally vows he’d chase him with a frying pan.

It turns out to be Jack. “What are you talking about?” He smiles, sitting down next to Cas, as Dean pulls back jerkily. 

“Ice cream.” Cas tells him. “Jack, how about tomorrow I take you out for some ice cream?” 

Jack’s smile grows brighter immediately. “I’d like that.”

“Alright then, it’s fixed.” Cas smiles back himself, and gets up. “I’m going to go check on Sam. Dean, why don’t you play Connect-4 with Jack? He’s very good at it.” Dean takes the cue and gets up to fetch the game. 

As they walk out of the door together, Cas whispers to him. “I call being the decoy for the surprise party.”

“You already did, smart-ass.” Dean rolls his eyes, and pecks Cas on his lips before going to actually get the game from the library.

*

Like most nights, Jack’s asleep before midnight.

At nine minutes to twelve, Dean goes into Cas’s room. Cas immediately points out that there’s nine minutes to twelve. Dean takes a minute to explain to him that since they can’t zap themselves into Jack’s room with all the goods at exactly midnight - they must prepare in advance.

It’s weird having his boyfriend being an immortal angel, Dean’s decide. Cas has a strange sense of time. Sometimes nine minutes is a blink of an eye to someone who’s lived billions of years - and other times, nine minutes is apparently too soon to begin preparations for Jack’s midnight birthday.

Anyways, he braves on, and seven minutes to twelve, he knocks on Sam’s door. Sam’s instantly out, with something in a brown bag.

“Did you have to use the farmer’s market bag, dude?” Dean asks sufferingly, with a heartfelt roll of his eyes.

“This isn’t a -” Sam begins, agitated, before he notices Dean smirking at him. “Do you have to be a jerk all the time?”

Dean nods, sporting his best shit-eating grin.

“Can you two continue this afterwards?” Cas proposes, frankly. “There’s no time and I need to get the pie, and my gift.”

Deans scoffs at the ‘no time’ bit and makes way for Cas. “I’ll pick up your gift.” He offers to Cas, and proceeds to gesture at Sam to meet him at Jack’s room and sets off towards his own to get his gift.

At six minutes to twelve, Sam’s waiting outside Jack’s bedroom, holding the bag in his hand and listening in for sounds that indicate Jack’s asleep.

At five minutes to twelve, Dean joins him, holding a lumpy wrapped thing in both hand, and a neat rectangular parcel under it. “The big one’s mine.” He informs Sam, if only to earn a bitchface.

At three minutes to twelve, Cas shows up with the freshly-heated pie, with three candles planted in the middle.

Shortly after, they realize none of them have lighters in their pajamas, so Dean rushes to his room for one.

At two minutes to twelve, they’ve successfully lit all three presents. The pie’s shifted to Sam’s hands, because his gift is the most compact - and Dean and Cas hold theirs in their hands.

In the last minute, they realize it might take a while to wake Jack up before wishing him, so they decide to start the process.

Forty seven seconds to Jack turning three, Castiel, Sam and Dean go into his room. They don’t cause a commotion on purpose, but Jack wakes up anyways, staring at them groggily.

“What are you -” He starts, squinting like Cas tends to. Sam checks his watch and realizes he isn’t wearing one, and six seconds to midnight, Dean checks his phone.

Exactly at midnight, Cas is the first to move forward and hug his son.

“Happy Birthday, Jack!” Sam and Dean shout in unison, as Cas kisses Jack’s forehead with the happiest look they’ve ever seen on him - and then they take over.

In the exact minute of midnight, Dean and Sam hug him together, squeezing him between them, and Jack begins to shake, and lets out a happy sob. “I -”

“You can have a little re-hug, babe.” Dean calls out to Cas, who’s just looking from a feet away, tears in his eyes - and that’s exactly what Dean needs to be set off, and when Cas joins the hug - putting an arm around either brother and holding onto Jack tighter this way, Dean’s tears start to fall too. With the rest of his family emotional and together, Sam feels joy prick his eyes as well.

“Happy birthday, Jack.” Dean repeats, as they pull away. Jack falls back on the bed without them holding him up, and seems to sink in the bed in joy, breathless and pink-faced.

“Thank you!”

“We’re all very proud of you.” Sam says, beaming. “And here’s to many happy and healthy years ahead.” He puts a hand on Jack’s shoulder warmly and Jack leans into his touch.

“Thank you.” His breath hitched.

“And we love you.” Cas adds, saying every word so profoundly, in the way that he does - that Jack cannot speak a single word in return.

“Now come on there, scoot,” Dean smiles so wide that he’s basically chuckling as he breathes out. “Let’s all sit and cut the pie.”

“And we can exchange gifts.” Sam grins.

“And then you can go back to sleep,” Cas says, in a deadpan. “Because there aren’t going to be any surprise parties, and this is the only thing we’re doing to celebrate your birthday.”

Dean and Sam throw a glare at Cas whose combined magnitude is just about enough to make him realize he just said something he wasn’t supposed to have said.

***

The pie is lovely. 

Sam got Jack a journal. It’s of the type John’s journal was, minus the overflowing pages filled with hunting details and the rugged vibes it always exuded - but it’s got promise. When Jack unwraps it, Dean’s the one who lets out an injured sound. That’s a truly meaningful gift - he’s proud of his brother.

Dean got Jack a sweater. It’s warm as it’s woollen, really soft, and strangely a spitting image of Cas’s trench-coat, if it were buttoned full like Cas never does it. It’s the exact same shade of beige, and the lapels and attached buttons - although they serve no purpose but likeness, and thus, meaningfulness - are the same. Jack immediately puts it on, and Cas doesn’t remove his arm from around Dean for the rest of the night. 

Cas got Jack a board game. It’s the most efficiently packed, so while Jack tries his best to unwrap it neatly, Sam and Dean guess the contents. Suggesting Monopoly, Sam’s almost there - but it turns out to be the Game Of Life. 

“Cause you’re teaching him to live.” Sam grins at Cas, because it really is a good gift.

“Of course, but I’ve also heard this game can go on for a very long time.” Cas says, sounding pleased with himself. 

“More time for all of us, together.” Dean realizes, just as Jack beams and starts to open it. “Uh, not playing it right _now_ , Jack. You need to go back to sleep. We can always play tomorrow.”

And because Jack is the well-mannered, precocious three-year-old that he is, he doesn’t point out that they wouldn’t have any time to play tomorrow, because of the birthday party he’s definitely not having. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you had a good read. Leave a comment maybe, and take care of yourselves. Have an amazing day!


End file.
